


Quick and dirty

by MoraMew



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Barebacking, Clothed Sex, Hook-Up, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 08:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21296318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoraMew/pseuds/MoraMew
Summary: It doesn't really mean anything, but it's still hot as hell.And fucking the replacement is a fuck you to Bruce, too.(At least that's what Jason tells himself)
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 8
Kudos: 420





	Quick and dirty

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this extremely tired and I'm not editing because I need sleep more

It's not the first time they've done this. It won't be the last time either- no matter what lies they might tell themselves.

"Fuck- _fuck_! _Harder_-"

Brat. Like he's not going hard enough to be winded and on the edge of shaky already.

Jason isn't one to disappoint, though,- in bed at least- so he gives the replacement what he wants.

Harder, rougher. He moves still gloves hands- fuck, Tim had jumped him as soon as he got off his bike; the shameless little shit- and wraps them around a pale throat, chokes the brat and forces his chest to arch off the floor.

Jason gets something close to a whimper for it and he gets that much closer to coming and filling Drake's tight ass.

It's a fucking smug thought, that, and Jason grunts as he imagines it, slams Tim's pretty face into the floor so he can press his boot against it, grind his fucking dirty heel into that desperate face.

If only Bruce could see his _new_ Robin now.

A growl leaves Jason and he shifts to get a better angle, grabs a scarred hip and grips tight enough to bruise.

He's so fucking close and the replacement is too. The way his ass is fucking squeezing Jason's cock is enough to drive him insane. Pit insane, maybe- it's that fucking good.

"_Jason- fuck**fuck-** Jason!"_

The cries are harsh, strangled. It's hard to talk with a boot smudging your face into the ground.

Doesn't make it less hot, though.

Jason grunts and spanks Drake hard- makes that lean body twitch and a whine fill the safe house.

"Fucking come, you little shit," Jason snarls. "Come on my _fucking_-"

He does. The replacement comes before Jason can finish- comes _hard_ and drags Jason along with him. It's bliss and fury and fucking _relief_. His boot slips off Drake's face through it and instead he pushes him to the floor, wraps his arms around lean shoulders and _grinds_ into him as he rides out a much needed orgasm.

Fuck, it's better than any high.

Jason waits a moment and then pulls out, rolls off of Drake and onto his back. The floor is clammy and gross and Jason pants quietly as he tries to gather his senses. When he manages to sit up, Drake is stretching out on the floor- drowsy and flushed and grinning like a cat that got the cream.

"The boot was hot," Drake tells him with a hum, arms folding as he yawns and rests his cheek against it. "Need to do that again."

It _was_ hot. Jason's dreamed about grinding his heel into the shit's face before, but that had always been after daydreaming about beating him up- he hadn't thought of doing it while fucking the brat.

Jason grunts and he stands, body threatening to ache as he does. He needs a beer and he needs a nap.

A shower, too, but that seems like a lot of fucking effort.

"Get me one too," Drake calls out.

"Fuck you," Jason calls back, dates enough to not be annoyed.

"You already did."

A short leaves him and Jason grabs two beers, hurls one across the room and almost manages to bean the brat in the head with it.

Of course, no Robin would ever miss that catch, though.

"Thanks," Drake tells him, standing up with a wince. He cracks it open and gulps it down in one go, almost impresses Jason when he crushes the can and tosses it in the trash without looking.

Jason just sips his own, watches as Drake checks his phone and curses and struggles back into his pants.

"Stupid banquet," the brat mutters as he zips himself up. "_Shit_."

It would be polite to ask what's up, but Jason doesn't give a shit about it.

"I've got a- _crap_\- Bruce has a banquet that I need to be at in ten minutes. Think you can-"

"No," Jason cuts in flatly. "Not part of the deal."

Drake huffs, bangs blowing up and sets a fucking _pout_ Jason's way.

"Dick."

"Yeah, and?"

Another huff and Drake pouts harder, crosses his arms over his chest. It's annoying, kind of amusing too.

The thought of the brat standing next to Bruce at a big fucking fancy shindig with Jason's come leaking out of his ass is amusing too.

"...fine," Jason tells him, taking a long drink of his beer and then standing. "You owe me."

Drake's face brightens with relief and Jason rolls his eyes at him, throws a helmet his way.

"Come on. You can fuck me later as thanks."

"Like I wasn't planning on it already."

Jason snorts, lips twitching with the urge to smile, and he pushes past Drake, grabs his keys and gets ready to head out.

What a brat.


End file.
